These were done under compulsion. I’m sure of it, but can’t tell you more. I had to do them, and then I didn’t or couldn’t - the switch flipped off. I’d never felt anything like that, haven’t since and don’t spend time wondering what the heck happened. In fact I’m pretty much done trying to understand much more about my father. I’m glad that a lot of what he was I am too. I’m relieved that some of what he was I’m not. I miss him.

Here are a few hard images of a difficult man at his end, when he had to face not only what he was or had failed to be, but also his death. He wasn’t ready.